


Discretion

by chipperdyke



Series: On Possession: Text and Epilogues [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, F/F, Prostitution, Secret Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-03
Updated: 2016-02-10
Packaged: 2018-05-18 02:08:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5894020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chipperdyke/pseuds/chipperdyke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Thanks as ever to my superb beta, Sashimae.</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks as ever to my superb beta, Sashimae.

"Lady Montilyet," Janice Adaar said, and the woman looked up from her desk. "I was hoping we could speak."

"Of course," Josephine said, a smile ghosting across her face. She gestured at the room's only other chair. "Please, sit."

Jan took the seat gingerly, testing her weight on it. New chairs were always uncertain things, and this one was particularly suspect. Minaeve wasn't standing by her table, but the reek of demon blood was thick here, overpowering.

_Bodice ripping, a short "sorry" before the fullness of breasts were revealed. Luscious, pert nipples in the perfect softness. A gasp in the candlelight. "Oh, Herald." The shine of a jewel, liberated from the grips of a mad Templar, relocated between these dusky breasts._

"What was it you wished to speak about?"

"Um," Jan said, shaking her head. "You and Leliana both support the mages over the Templars. I wanted to talk about your reasoning."

"Oh? Are you considering approaching the Templars instead?"

Jan avoided the question. "The mages have rebelled against the Circles, right? I have heard that the Circles were sometimes oppressive, but it was not such a hard life, for all that. The rebellion has caused so much chaos and bloodshed already, and for what? What could they hope to gain?"

"Freedom," Josephine said simply. "I would hate to presume, but surely you understand the hardship in being forced into a life because of the circumstances of your birth."

"That is the state of a million common folk," Jan pointed out. "It is the order of things, whether right or wrong."

"But… don't you see, Herald?"

"Please call me Jan."

"Well - Jan, then. Don't you see? In the midst of all this upheaval, we will have a chance to take a second look at the 'order' of things. We have a chance to rebuild, under a new model. I look on this as more than just a diplomatic post. This is a chance to right what has been wrong for so long."

_Silky wetness, squeezing Jan's finger deliberately. She would not come, Jan could already tell, but she would fake it and Jan didn't mind. Jan took her standing up, under her skirt, impatient. She kissed her with eyes closed, imagining another woman under her hands. One whose affections did not require the gift of gold._

Jan closed her eyes under the onslaught of memories, and then stood, feeling her chest tighten. "You are an optimist, my Lady," she said, almost too low to carry. "Didn't Leliana say that you are a noble?"

"I am heir to the Montilyet family of Antiva, yes."

"Why should you want change? I would have expected you to support the current order. First the mages. Who knows what will be next? The peasants could be knocking down your doors."

Josephine considered Jan's reasoning. "I do think that you're conflating two very different things. The common folk are miserable only under mismanagement. The mages were oppressed for countless ages, denied their right of choice, locked in cages."

Jan already knew that she agreed with Josephine and Leliana, but the Ambassador's motivations had remained a mystery. So she was a reformist, whatever the odds. How strange. "I am merely trying to understand what you are thinking. Engaging in a hypothetical, if you would."

Josephine looked at her, a mysterious smile alighting on her face. "You are not what I expected."

"Nor you," Jan said quietly, her stomach turning.

" _Let me touch you."_

" _Please, don't."_

" _I should like to return here. You have a very nice room. Big enough for two."_

" _I don't think so." Jan had not kept a camp follower for years. The pretended closeness only ended up hurting._

_The woman huffed, and then she said, "Carl would miss me, anyway."_

" _I bet he would."_

" _I will go now."_

" _Thank you."_

Jan rubbed her hands together, suddenly feeling filth on them. She licked her lips dryly. "Thank you for your time, Lady Montilyet."

"It is always a pleasure, Herald."

"Jan."

"... Jan. You should visit again, soon."

"I never see you in the mess hall," Jan said. "Where do you eat?"

"Here. There's too much to do."

"Tomorrow evening, can I bring you some food? Perhaps we could talk. About things other than the Inquisition."

"That would be delightful," Josephine said, and Jan believed her, by some miracle. She was a noble, and Jan had only spoken with a few. But she was different. There was a genuine quality to her, an earthy glow. Jan did not want to leave the room, but she did, Marked hand clenching and unclenching.

Bad enough to have taken a camp follower for _that_ , no matter how frustrated she was. But to come to the true object of her frustration just the next morning? Jan's head ached just considering her own blind stupidity. Cured? As if drinking more wine would cure you of alcoholism. That was the feeling, heady, unfamiliar. Taken from another's chest and placed into Jan's unwilling one. Drunkenness.

And she would see her again tomorrow. What madness had taken her mind? She should not have dinner with Josephine. She should escape her until this feeling faded.

She could already feel herself deciding to leave Haven. The bright side of it was that she would call the Council to inform them of her decision, and that meant that she would see Josephine again, _today._ She resisted for a few hours, practicing with her newly acquired greatsword. She shouldn't call the Council together just to see Josephine. She shouldn't leave Haven to avoid her.

Finally she relented, the sweet satisfaction of her workout making no headway against the raw ache in her chest. She told them all that she would leave for Redcliffe the next day, and kept her gaze from Josephine for as long as she could. When she finally looked over, Josephine's eyes were dizzying. Jan could feel herself falling straight into them, in utter, helpless misery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can something be angsty and fluffy at the same time? 
> 
> Can I write fluff?
> 
> So many questions.


	2. Chapter 2

The barracks were cold in the night, and the men huddled together at the tables in the center of the room. "Carl?" Krem yelled, and a blond boy sat up straighter, making eye contact with him. "The Inquisitor wants to talk to you."

Carl got up and Jan dragged him out of the barracks, pinning him against the wall. She slammed the door shut and loomed over him, her hand on the top of the frame. His sparse facial hair disappeared completely in the dimness. "Your woman. From Haven. Is she still with you?"

"Genevieve? I - yes."

"I need her," Jan hissed. She pressed two hundred gold into his palm. "Do you have a room?"

"Ah, yes," Carl said, and bent to count the coins. Enough to keep her two months; half his monthly salary. "It's not enough," he said, pressing the coins back into Jan's hand.

Jan put the money back into his hand and pulled out another handful, not bothering to count it. "Bring me to her."

Genevieve was as dark and beautiful as she was the first time. Carl closed the door behind Jan's back, and Jan stood quietly, letting Genevieve take her in.

"Have you reconsidered?" she asked finally.

"No," Jan said, not missing a beat.

"Have you been thinking of me?" Genevieve asked, trailing her hand up Jan's arm.

"Not at all."

"Why are you here?" she asked, and pressed her body against Jan's.

Jan's breath caught. "I want you," she said. Genevieve kissed her lips and let her slip down.

_Josephine's breasts, soft and unfamiliar. Josephine's lips, pouty, red-rouged. Her body is open, take it, take her. She is wet for you. No, tease her. Feel her waiting, impatient, yearning._

_This is what she wanted, too._

_You didn't let her leave your room. You caught her hand in yours and confessed everything, and she kissed you._ Jan drank the fantasy in, needing some measure of control against the waves of dreadful desire in her heart.

 _Her stomach is soft, her hips too narrow, not perfect, but she will have you. She is so wet now. Take her slowly. Treat her well._ Jan buried her face in the prostitute's breasts and mouthed her name. _Josephine._

Genevieve asked, "What is my name, Herald?"

"Genevieve," Jan said.

"That's not it," the woman said, pressing her face against the side of Jan's. "I'm the Ambassador, aren't I?"

An icy fear entered Jan's gut, and she pulled away. She met the woman's beautiful grey eyes, and Genevieve said, "I won't tell."

"No," Jan said, but it was far too late. She sat up in the bed, letting her feet rest fully on the ground, and considered the predicament. "Goddamn it. This could have worked out well for you."

"I think it still will," she said, sitting up and stroking Jan's back through her jerkin. "You know, everyone says we could be sisters."

"What is your price for silence?"

"You don't have to leave."

"Your price."

Genevieve told it, and Jan paid and then left the room, as unsatisfied as she had come. _She could have at least faked it,_ Jan thought bitterly, unfairly, stalking back up the stairs to the main hall. It was late, and the hall was empty.

What if Josephine found out about her indiscretion? The fear was almost as great as Jan's helpless desire and her slowly dissolving self control.

She cursed the united hordes of femininity, resting her head against the door that led to Josephine. The woman worked all hours, and Jan imagined that she could hear the scratching of her quill through the door. Her heart leapt in anticipation, and she pulled herself away from the wood, only to be pulled back against it. _Josephine._ The bliss of her presence was just two thin slabs of wood away.

This crush was all-consuming. The hours spent in her company today had inflated Jan's heart beyond what she'd thought possible without ever touching a woman. She was drawn like a magnet, angry, hopeless. She shouldn't have let herself stay in her company for so long, but she had thought herself free. She had done so well, since the last time. It was because she had stayed away.

The infernal woman was too lovely to be near. How far away would be far enough? How long would she need to stay away from Skyhold before she forgot that smile, before her laugh faded into whispers, before that bronze skin stopped making Jan's fingers twitch and ache? She already knew that she would never get far enough away to escape those eyes.

Jan tore herself away from the door and stalked outside again, waiting for the chill air to numb her. She paced the battlements until her shivering became unbearable, and then she took a weighted wooden practice sword and broke a few training dummies with it. In frustration, she slammed the sword against the wall, and it broke, too. And then she beat the wall with her fists.

"Afraid, powerless. This is someone else's heart. She is someone else's love." It was Cole.

"Get out of my head, boy," Jan spat.

"You are so alone." There he was, crouched near the ground, in the place that the building met the wall. She stalked over to him, and he disappeared.

"Something, anything to soothe the pain." He was behind her.

"It is bad enough when it's just in my head. When you say it, it sounds so much worse."

"Nothing could be worse than this," Cole said, echoing her thought back to her. "I want to help." That was his own.

"Get me some flowers or something." Cole nodded, and before she could say that she was being sarcastic, he was gone. "Don't get me flowers. I don't need anything," she said to the open air. _Nothing will help._ _Just escape._


	3. Chapter 3

They were finally gone from the Winter Palace, where even the walls had eyes. Camp had been set, dinner had been had, and Jan was on her back on her cot trying to finish.

_Her eyes in the moonlight, reflecting each star. You finally touched her. You pressed your hand against her back and her hand touched the skin of your neck. She was so close that every pore of your body absorbed her. She was so close that you could drown in her breath._

_Why did she dance with you?_

_Why did you let yourself ask her?_

Jan wrenched her hand out of her pants and flipped onto her stomach, thrusting her hips against the cot. _Josephine._ She needed a body beneath her. Her mind was so consumed by their dance that she could not think properly at all. One moment she was giddy with the aftershocks, and the next she was consumed by the hopelessness, a dull, pounding depression. _Josephine._

Jan pushed off the cot and looked around the room. A chair. She went over to it and pressed herself against it, hooking her finger under the seat. She tried to thrust into it, but gave up immediately. Nothing would do.

She fastened her pants and escaped the tent, striding quickly through camp to the nearest edge. She could walk, at least. Walk until these thoughts left her.

"Inquisitor," a voice said in the darkness, and Jan halted, turning. _It couldn't be._

It was. The woman in the flesh, her eyes as beautiful as last night, her hair down for the first time that Jan had ever seen. It was gorgeous. _She_ was gorgeous. Jan had never come so close to confessing her feelings. _What would that ever do for you? Earn a new enemy, perhaps. Or embarrass her. Keep your thoughts to yourself. Nobody wants to hear about your problem._

"Lady Montilyet," Jan finally managed. "Isn't it late?"

Josephine shrugged. "I missed dinner, so I thought I would find the leftovers. And I have told you a million times to call me Josephine."

 _Josephine._ It was almost a dirty word. She was in a huge jacket that went to her knees, woolen pants, and a sweater. Somehow, against reason, it suited her.

"You missed dinner?" It had been excruciating, waiting all that time to see her, only to have her never arrive.

"Too much to do."

"You work too hard, my Lady. We rode all day."

"Exactly," she responded, and Jan's mind drew a blank. The pause stretched, and then Josephine said, "Well, I suppose I will see you on the morrow."

"Yes," Jan agreed.

"I wanted to say that I am still thinking of our dance," Josephine said, her voice laced with hesitation.

"Ah - yes. We danced."

"Goodnight."

"Goodbye, Josephine." It was almost a whisper.

Jan went back to her tent and waited for the ground to swallow her.

* * *

The next day, she volunteered to scout ahead of the main body of the Inquisition, and stayed out until the camp had quieted. She tied up her horse with the rest and snuck in, managing to avoid all human contact. She could make this work. The party was big enough that she could avoid Josephine.

Thankfully, the closest port was Val Royeaux. Jan found the most expensive whorehouse, and nobody recognized her - or they had the decency to pretend not to. Finally she had a body beneath her, and she took her sweet time with it. The match was good, almost believable. She used her tongue, and then her fingers, and then she held the woman and told her everything that she wanted to tell Josephine. She was sweet as Josephine would be, but she said that she loved her, too, and Jan took her again. And then she told the woman to reject her, and they played out the scenario, naked, and Jan took her again. "That isn't realistic," the woman said when she had faked her fourth orgasm.

"I don't care. I need you, Josephine. I long for you." Finally Jan cried, and the woman comforted her as whores do, powerless to cure the pain, but genuine in the attempt. Adequately genuine.

The next morning, Jan woke up to faint knocking on her hotel door. She wrapped a bath robe over her sleeping clothes and opened the door.

Impossibly, it was Josephine. Jan let her into her room, nerves jittering. Josephine was even more nervous. "I must explain something to you about the Montilyets' fortunes." Jan watched Josephine wear a circle in the carpet as she explained her family's predicament. Her nervousness was heartbreaking, as was her story.

"Comte Boisvert claims to know who killed my messengers. But he refuses to meet with me unless you accompany me."

"I would be honored to accompany you, Josephine," Jan told her. "Let me dress." She walked Josephine to the door, and then leaned against it, closing her eyes. She had done well at restraining herself from flirtations, but perhaps it was only because of Josephine's distress. She hoped not. It would be a relief to allow herself to stay in a room with Josephine, alone, again. Perhaps the latest whore had cured her of this crush. The quickness of her pulse proved it an impossible hope, even as Jan thought it.

Unbidden, the memory of Josephine's most recent blush arose. _"It's a shame that a beauty like yours should be shut away on a day like today, my Lady."_ Josephine had stuttered and dismissed her way out of a true response, but she had smiled so brilliantly that Jan determined never to allow herself into the same room, alone, with her again.

When they were alone her words flowed more smoothly. She felt like the cat inadvertently left in the same room as the beloved family parakeet. It was a disaster waiting to happen. So what if this required, on occasion, that Jan turn on her heel upon opening her advisor's door? It was better than needing to explain exactly what had happened to the unexpectedly missing bird. It was better than needing to explain that she had started to suffocate, and could breathe only after touching her lips to Josephine's. Or that her heart had stopped beating on its own, and she required a constant stream of those gloriously accented words to move the blood in her veins.

No, she could not let herself be alone with Josephine if she could possibly avoid it. Her heart sank even as she decided it, but by the time she finished dressing she was whistling. She would be walking, in public, with Josephine down the streets of Val Royeaux in just a few minutes. No measure of prudence would stop her from it, and for once she was glad to have run out of excuses.

* * *

They departed for Skyhold the next day. Jan stayed belowdecks on the ship, faking nausea, huddled in her private room. When the claustrophobia became too much, she made circuits of the ship's deck. Most of the time, Josephine was not there. Once, their eyes met and Jan pivoted away, pretending interest in the waves. When she heard a foot scuff behind her, she made a beeline belowdecks, never looking to see who it was. A crewmember, no doubt. It wouldn't be her. Why should she seek Jan out?

Jan crammed herself onto the bench under the portal in her room, her mind turning over each detail again. Nobles danced. It was a nice dance, but nothing more. Josephine was so nice to her, so sweet, but what did she expect? They worked together. They had to be pleasant to each other.

When they made it to Skyhold, Jan sought out Genevieve. She found herself considering Genevieve's offer, but no - doubtless it would look bad for the Inquisitor to take a mistress, and the likeness was too easy to see. It would be obvious.

But the next day, Jan glimpsed a bruise on Genevieve's face. She went to the barracks that night, and dragged Carl out by his hair. "Give me all your money. Every damn coin."

"You're not my commander. I answer only to the Bull. I don't have to do anything for you."

The mercenaries followed them out, making a circle around them. Jan slammed Carl's face against the muddy ground. Then she picked him back up and broke his knee. She walked him, wailing, to his room, where she deposited him on the floor.

"Did he touch you?" Jan asked Genevieve.

She shook her head, but with her body bare there were more bruises and her eyes proved the lie. Jan kicked Carl. "Where does he keep his money?"

Genevieve found it, her hands shaking. "Keep it," Jan said. "Get away from here. Do you have somewhere you can stay the night?"

Genevieve shook her head again. "Get dressed. Take everything with you." Jan took her to her room in the tower and let her sleep in her bed, taking the couch.

An hour after they had extinguished the lanterns, Jan heard Genevieve crying. She itched to comfort her, but if Genevieve wanted her comfort she would have cried earlier, when she knew Jan was awake. No, this was secret crying, and Jan's comfort would not be welcome.

In the morning, she gave Genevieve one of the Inquisition's horses and watched her go. She had enough money to buy a farm, or live for a year in a nice hostel. She could make a life. Doubtless she wouldn't, but at least she had the chance.


	4. Chapter 4

"The House of Repose," Jan said, taking a seat on the bale of hay across from Leliana. Her voice echoed strangely off the roof of the tower, setting the ravens cawing. "The contract. Do it."

"Are you certain?" Leliana said, her eyes brooding, mysterious. "That is not what Josephine wants."

"It's too dangerous to wait," Jan said, her breath coming unsteadily. "She must be kept safe." She knew that she was saying too much, but this was Leliana's suggestion; surely she agreed. If there was anything that the two of them could agree on, it was that Josephine should be kept safe.

Leliana's eyebrow twitched upward. "You go so rarely against her will. In fact, I can't think of a single time."

Jan didn't respond, and Leliana finally nodded. "It will be done." Then she stood up, turning her back to Jan and pacing away. The conversation was not over, but Jan suddenly wished it was. She wished that she had not, in her haste, taken the long trek up here. It would have been safer to catch her after dinner. Where there were witnesses.

"I have seen the way you look at her, you know. You have hidden it well, but I have seen it." She was still facing away from Jan, toward the door to the balcony.

Jan's stomach dropped and her hands became instantly clammy. She stood, too, her body tense.

"Hungrily. You watch her move like it is your only sustenance."

Jan opened her mouth to deny it, but no words came out.

"And I know about your whores," Leliana said, finally turning. Her face was hidden in shadow. "I have considered telling her about them."

"Please," Jan managed. "It would - I don't want -"

"You don't want what, Inquisitor? You don't want her to know what you truly are?"

"Yes." That wasn't all of it, but it was a big part. "Genevieve is gone now. I will stop."

"You will stop because there are no other brown-skinned, light-eyed whores in Skyhold."

So she knew about that, too. It was somehow a relief. Someone else knew how she felt, and how badly she had dealt with it. And she was not a villain, it seemed. This conversation was not an accusation, or a lesson on morality. So what was it?

"It would devastate her, you know. She holds you in such high regard." Leliana considered Jan carefully. "You should hear what she says about you."

Jan's heart leapt into her throat. _Surely she just remarks on my command of the Common tongue. What a sophisticated brute she must think me._

"Are your intentions pure, Janice Adaar?"

The question caught Jan off-guard. "I - what?"

"You will not deliberately hurt her?"

"I would not," Jan said, her pulse pounding heavy in her head. "I would never."

"Odd that I believe you," Leliana said quietly. "You want her so badly."

"I do," Jan said. "I would never hurt her."

"She is an innocent when it comes to love. Treat her with care, and you will be safe from me."

Jan nodded, and Leliana turned back around, dismissing her.

She walked down the stairs in a daze, turning Leliana's words over and over in her head. _You should hear what she says about you. Treat her with care._ It could not mean what Jan thought it meant. Her feet carried her to Josephine's door, and without thought to the crowded hall she rested her head against it. _Josephine._

She wrenched open the door and had her hand on the next door before she stopped herself. She ran down the stairs to the castle's lower levels and then sprinted away, out of the courtyard, through the gates, across the long bridge. What could Leliana have meant? That Josephine returned her interest, in some small way?

Jan let her body collapse on a snow drift and looked at Skyhold. The castle was suddenly beautiful, picturesque. She watched her hand as it sank into the snow, melting it with her body's sweaty heat.

How would she approach Josephine? She had imagined it a thousand times, but always as a hopeless fountain of words. There was nothing that killed a budding romance more surely than a confession of love too soon. She would simply ask Josephine to dinner. No, she could bring her food, as she had promised at Haven. She would let herself spend time with Josephine, and she would see where it led. Nothing was so important as to appear natural, organic. She would let their hands touch, and she would not pull away. She would let Josephine take the lead. She would not kiss her until Josephine tipped her head up and put her hand on her chest. She would not touch her body until Josephine asked to be touched. There was nothing so precious as her honor, and Josephine was so pure that Jan trembled, suddenly, at the imagining of it.

There was no rush. Every moment spent near her was a moment of undeserved bliss. She could listen to her talk for hours and wake up from it as if from a dream. She could watch her from a distance and never tire of the slight movements of her wrists.

Her body flushed hot at the thought of going to her now. Why shouldn't she? She should be careful, certainly, but she did not need to stay away. _I am still thinking of our dance_. The words held new meaning, and Jan leapt to her feet, her step light. She could see Josephine's window in the distance, and kept her eyes on it. Not too far away, not too close. She could do this.


	5. Chapter 5

"Finally," Leliana turned her body deliberately away from Cullen to face Jan and Josephine, "the contract on your life has been destroyed, Josephine."

"No," Josephine gasped, voice strangled. "Why?"

"You can send a new copy of the document reinstating your trading rights, with no fear of assassins." Leliana's eyes lingered on Jan, sharing the blame, and Josephine turned to Jan and shot her a fierce glare.

"Is there anything else?" Josephine asked the group.

Cullen shook his head, and Josephine marched out the door, blinking away tears. How dare they move behind her back? Yes, she had hoped that Jan would help her raise the Du Paraquettes to nobility, but the woman was busy and it was no surprise that she had not yet taken the first step. She had never considered the possibility that she and Leliana would take action without consulting her.

She would not go back to her desk; her office was suddenly stuffy and cramped. She hurried past it, and then she heard a heavy hand catch the door behind her and spun around.

It was Jan. Of course. Leliana she could deal with; Leliana she could scold. Jan was impossible, warm and friendly in one moment and unapproachable in the next. She was unreadable, mysterious, and immeasurably difficult.

She struggled to find appropriate words to dismiss the Inquisitor, and then gave up and turned back to the outer doors. Maybe she she could deter her by walking away. She continued through the double doors and stormed across the hall. Before she had fully processed the decision, she was in the gardens.

"Josephine." Jan was evidently undeterred, damn her.

"What do you want?" It was as close as Josephine could hint at reproach.

"I am sorry," Jan said, and the sentiment was much stronger than Josephine expected. It felt like Jan's eyes, bright in the sunlight, could pierce her soul. The dance three weeks ago at the Winter Palace came back to Josephine in a rush, and she could feel herself uncontrollably blushing. Why should the memory of that dance affect her so much, when she knew that Jan had already forgotten about it? _We danced_. A casual dismissal. It should not still hurt. But it did.

"Why would you do this?" she asked again, a real question this time. "How many lives were just thrown away?"

"Better assassins and spies than you, Josephine."

Josephine could feel her heart skip a beat, and she turned away from Jan. "You don't know that my life was in danger."

"We did," Jan said quietly. Jan always exuded an aura of energy, a vigor, and Josephine could feel it even with her eyes turned away. She took a few steps to the nearest bush, which was just starting to flower. "I couldn't let you put yourself in danger, Josephine," Jan murmured, following her.

" _You_ couldn't let me," Josephine repeated sharply, her temper flaring. "Who are you to decide, Jan?"

"Who are you to put your life in danger? We need you, Josephine. You are irreplaceable."

Josephine scoffed, but her anger softened and she looked back up at Jan, forgiving her too quickly. "The only one who is irreplaceable here is you, Herald."

"Look at this," Jan said, and plucked one of the flowers off the bush. "It's the same color as your dress on the night we celebrated the closing of the Breach."

It was, at that. Not exactly the same color, but very close, a lovely blue flecked with white. "I didn't see you that night," Josephine said without thinking, and felt her cheeks heat. They weren't the right words to say. She shouldn't remember that Jan had stayed far away from her, a distant figure in the sea of celebrants. They had only just met, after all.

Jan smiled a little. "I suppose that we didn't spend much time together, then."

"No," Josephine said, then Jan stepped closer and her world compressed. She counted each quick breath she took, trying to stay steady.

Jan brushed her hair away from her cheek and tucked the flower into her hair. "It suits you." Where Jan's fingers brushed Josephine's skin, they left a wake of tingling softness.

Josephine took the last step to Jan and gently placed her hand on Jan's chest, below her breasts. Jan leaned down and their lips met in a soft kiss.

Josephine forced herself to breathe, her hands trembling a little. _It's just a kiss,_ she tried to remind herself, but the thought was meaningless. She had kissed others, sometimes stealing the kiss, sometimes making a show of it. This was not the same. Her whole body vibrated against Jan's vigor, and their lips came together again hungrily.

She put her hand on Jan's neck and drew her down to deepen the kiss, heedless of their audience. Her chest was blossoming in a helpless wave of desire. She didn't want it to be just a kiss. She wanted it to change everything.

Finally she released Jan's neck and tried to step away, but her body would not obey. Jan straightened, her hands light on Josephine's waist. "You are so lovely, Josephine."

"I want -" Josephine stopped talking, unable to find the words for what she wanted. She realized that her foot was hovering, and put it down, trying to appear natural.

"You are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," Jan said, and the words broke the spell. She had heard those words before.

She stepped away from Jan's embrace, taking a deep breath. "Thank you for dealing with the contract." She let her unease slip away, releasing her breath. Jan was different. _She_ was different.

"I'd do it again in a heartbeat," Jan said, taking a step away from Josephine. "I was hoping to ask you to dinner. I have asked the staff, and they can set a table in that gazebo, there. We can have some privacy."

 _Not too eager,_ she schooled herself. "That sounds nice."

"Tomorrow night, then?"

"Tomorrow," Josephine agreed, and then she practically skipped back to her office, inexplicably giddy. It was only in the evening that she recalled that she had a flower in her hair, and pulled it out, twirling it in her fingers. She would keep it, she decided. It was a token, perhaps, of a new beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might have noticed that my interpretation of Jan has shifted slightly during this character exploration. Necessary changes to On Possession have been made, notably in Chapters 4, 5 & 6.


End file.
